The moment Snape finished his harrowing introduction to potions class, he began pairing students into partners — and did so with a strategic cruelty that only he could master.
To ensure Hermione wouldn't have the chance to help Harry, he made sure to place her far across the classroom… right next to Alex Gunter.
Hermione's usual partner, the shy Ravenclaw boy Malcolm Corner, was instead sent to sit with Lavender Brown.
Alex glanced at the bushy-haired girl now seated beside him. Her hair was a wild, frizzy mess, but it didn't hide the sharp lines of her young face. Though the slightly large front teeth threw off her symmetry a little, it gave her a sort of unique charm.
Alex mused dryly, nodding politely at her before turning his focus to the ingredients laid out before him. No — not ingredients. Potions materials. Right. Hogwarts vocabulary.
Hermione, however, looked like she had something to say. She hesitated for a few seconds, then finally leaned in and spoke.
"Alex Gunter… did you go to Garden Primary School?" she asked.
Alex looked up, surprised. "Yeah. I graduated from Garden Primary. How did you know?"
Hermione let out a long breath, clearly relieved. She nodded eagerly. "I thought it was you. When I heard your name at the Sorting Ceremony, I had a hunch."
She held out her hand, confidently and without reservation. "Hermione Granger. We were in the same school. I was in Class 4. I used to hear all sorts of stories about you. You only showed up a few times a year, but every time you did — perfect scores, all subjects."
Alex blinked in realization. So we were classmates this whole time? No wonder she looked vaguely familiar. Then again, he'd barely attended primary school himself — too busy making money in his past life to bother with class.
Had he known back then that Hermione Granger was a classmate, he might have... Ahem, no. That way lies prison.
He took her hand and shook it with a slight smile. "Nice to meet you properly, Miss Granger. Looks like fate really wanted us to work together."
"Just call me Hermione," she replied cheerfully. "And don't think I've forgotten — you always outscored me in primary. But now that we're at Hogwarts, it's payback time. I will beat you."
The way she looked at him — fiery, full of resolve — made Alex chuckle. She was so serious… and honestly, kind of adorable.
"I wouldn't get too confident," he teased.
And just then—
"If I were you, Mr. Gunter," came Snape's cold, silken voice from behind them, "I'd stop flirting and start adding the powdered viper fangs to your cauldron. Unless, of course, you want to poison your classmates."
Hermione's face went scarlet. Alex, on the other hand, simply shrugged and tossed the powder into the cauldron without a hint of embarrassment.
Snape scowled when his jab failed to land, and with the grace of a brooding bat, floated over to hover behind Harry like a curse waiting to be cast.
...
An hour later, the class was dismissed, and a wave of miserable, exhausted students poured out of the dungeon. Most looked like they'd survived a war.
Especially Harry, who dragged himself forward with glassy eyes and a soul that looked halfway to the afterlife. He'd already cost Gryffindor five points for a botched stirring technique and was starting to resemble a first-year veteran of trauma.
Alex, however, lingered behind.
He wasn't particularly interested in earning extra points — he just wanted to have a word with Snape. The constant scrutiny was getting annoying.
Snape didn't even look at him. "Mr. Gunter," he said icily, "if you're hoping to stay after class so I'll give you detention, you're wasting your time. Get out."
There it is, Alex thought. The full Snape flavor.
"I'd like to talk, Professor," Alex said, not backing down.
Snape turned to him, silent, eyes like still water — too dark, too deep, too difficult to read.
Alex met his gaze and began plainly.
"I apologize, Professor. About the Sorting. I know it wasn't what you expected. But… you saw it yourself. The Sorting Hat didn't exactly wait for me to negotiate."
He shrugged lightly.
"You said it yourself — I'm from the Gunter family, yes, but I'm also a half-blood. And from everything I've heard, Slytherin isn't exactly welcoming to someone like me."
"I didn't choose Ravenclaw to insult you. I chose it because it's the best fit. For me — and honestly, probably for the rest of your students too."
He waited.
Snape didn't speak. He just… looked. The room fell utterly still.
Then, after a long silence, the Potions Master finally replied.
"Some matters, Mr. Gunter, I can let go. But not everything is within my control."
He paused. "Students… especially those not in my House… are their own masters. I cannot guard you from their idiocy."
Alex let out a breath of relief. That was as good as he could hope for.
"Understood, Professor. I don't care about their opinions. Only yours. If we're clear — I'll take my leave."
He bowed slightly, turned, and walked away.
Snape didn't stop him. He just stood there, watching.
And when Alex finally vanished beyond the classroom door, the professor whispered softly to no one.
"If I had made a different choice... if I had stood my ground like that boy... Lily, would we have had a different ending too?"
Two silent tears shimmered in the corners of his eyes.
...
Alex didn't know any of this.
Because the moment he left the classroom, Fred and George Weasley ambushed him in the hallway.
"Well, well, if it isn't our dear Mr. Gunter! Good day to you, sir!"
Both twins gave him flamboyant bows.
Alex rolled his eyes. "What now?"
Fred threw an arm around his shoulder, all smiles. "Tonight. Midnight. Hogwarts Secret Night Tour. Fourth floor, right side corridor. Be there or be square."
Alex raised a brow. Now what are these two planning?
Still, he had nothing better to do. And something about their energy was contagious.
"Alright," he agreed. "I'll come."
The twins cheered and bounded away like happy foxes with a new prank in mind.
Alex, meanwhile, headed to the Great Hall and shoved down a few mouthfuls of lunch. He was in a rush — History of Magic was next.
And History of Magic... was a living death.
The moment Professor Binns — an actual ghost — started speaking, the classroom transformed into a sensory void. His monotone droned on, a never-ending stream of dry facts delivered with all the charisma of wet toast.
Within ten minutes, Alex passed out on his desk.
Across the room, Hermione shot him a scandalized look that could have turned a basilisk to stone.
...
Meanwhile, in the Headmaster's office on the eighth floor, Albus Dumbledore and Severus Snape sat in solemn conversation.
And the topic?
Alex Gunter.
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